


Direction of the Wind

by hawkfruit



Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, I'll update tags as I go along, Lime, One Shot Collection, Pining, Random & Short, Short, Tsunderes, Vignette, depends on the chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-13 12:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18940507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkfruit/pseuds/hawkfruit
Summary: A series of random vignettes for Gust and the Builder, Annie.





	1. Moonlit Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There, held carefully in her tan, calloused hands, was a delicate bouquet of Hibiscus flowers. The ones he had almost forgotten having mentioned to her a few days ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Builder's name is Annie! In my game file I named her "Derp" but I felt like that wasn't appropriate for a romantic fic lol. A scene re-write of sorts, and mild spoilers for, the Flowers for Mother quest for Gust.

****Moonlight washed over the leaves of the yellow-brown trees and reflected within each lapping wave in the Amber Island River. Gust found himself remembering one of the things he had most issue with when he came back to Portia: the overwhelming silence of the small town. There wasn’t the noise of buses and engines the way Atara always had, and at first he had found it unsettling. It was something he hadn’t really noticed as a child, having grown up in Portia, but once he left and returned it was all he could hear— or, _couldn’t_ hear, to be more exact. But now he simply found it peaceful.

It was, overall, a very perfect setting for the blond to relax and allow the artistic side of his mind to run on autopilot. When he was working he relished in perfecting every detail of his designs. Every line, every angle, every curve had to fit the way his mind pictured it, and there was probably no greater rush than finishing a project he had been pouring over for weeks. Now, though, as he painted simply for leisure, dipping his brush into a deep purple color in his palette, he could just focus on just the vague, overall idea. He reduced the scenery into each tuft of grass, each curve of bark, and each splotch of light until he wasn’t even seeing the scenery in front of him anymore, only on the canvas.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent like this, only that before leaving he had told Ginger and his father not to wait up for him. The moon was just peaking out when he had set up his easel, but now it was high in the sky, an almost-full disk against the setting of the stars. That was another thing he had had to get used to again— how many stars there were here compared to the busy, light-polluted Atara.

It was with some surprise that he realized now he _did_ hear a noise, somewhere in the back of his awareness. Specifically, the sound of rushing footsteps. A monster? It couldn’t be, he always made sure to pick a spot both aesthetically pleasing, but also far away from the nuisance of any dangers. He was about to decide to ignore it, hoping it was someone running to grab the last round of the bus or something when a cheerful, excited tone rang out from a short distance.

“Gust!”

Odd. That sounded vaguely like the town’s newest builder.

“Gust!” She called again, and finally, slowly, he went about setting down his paint supplies neatly so that nothing wound smudge or run. To her credit, at least, the girl waited for him to finish before saying anything, simply taking the moment to rest her hands on her knees and pant. Did she run all the way here from her house?  
He crossed his arms over his chest and turned to face her, ready to shoo her away. Even if they had become rather close over the past few seasons (something that he would not readily admit aloud, for any activity that could potentially put a name to whatever strange and uncommon feeling she stirred within his chest was something he actively avoided), he hated being interrupted from painting. Really the only person he allowed to be near him when he did this was Ginger, who would usually sit peacefully along the riverbank and pick flowers, making absent conversation here and there. She was his sister, though, and when he came back to Portia the first thing he had decided was that he would never again waste another one of the precious moments he had left with her.

Gust refocused his attention away from his thoughts and back onto the builder. Despite her wide, almost eager expression— which truthfully did pique his curiosity, but not enough to sacrifice his current alone time— the dismissal came easily to his lips, about to fall off his tongue, when she quickly pulled something out from her backpack. There, held carefully in her tan, calloused hands, was a delicate bouquet of Hibiscus flowers. The ones he had almost forgotten having mentioned to her a few days ago.

He fell speechless.

“I finally found some for you! I’m sorry I took me so long,” she said energetically.

Honestly, Gust had thought that after she told him what the more botanically inclined residents of Portia had said about the soil being too harsh this year that they had parted ways there. He had made a mental note to look for the flowers next time he traveled to one of the larger cities for work. But here she was, happily pushing a rather plentiful bouquet at him. He cupped his hands around it in surprise, barely aware of his own actions, and he could feel the warmth of her hands within his as she held them there.

“I thought…” he could hear the slight surprise in his own voice and made an effort to school his emotions. “I thought the soil was too rough this year for it to grow?”

“Yes!” Annie nodded, as if having expected this response. “That’s what everyone said, but I went back to ask Nora to study it one more time, and she found a healthy, ungrown seed in the soil.” Her eyes were shining at him, reflecting back the sky of stars around them like a mini snow globe. His heart was pounding against his ears in a way he didn’t particularly approve of. “So I went home and made an extra planter box, put it in, and voila!” As if noticing his rather stunned demeanor, she quickly added, “Oh, and don’t worry, I had lots of fertilizer so I took plenty of care of them. I just hope I wasn’t too late for what you wanted them for?”

At her question he finally came back to himself. He absently prayed that the cover of night would hide the blush threatening to spread over his cheeks. “No, they’re perfect. Thank you.”

At that she grinned at him. Finally she dropped her hands so he was holding the bouquet alone, but he felt strangely cold without her touch. After a few moments of silence, which Gust filled by nitpicking gently at the flowers, rearranging the bow she had tied around them, she spoke up again. Her gaze had turned softer, a bit more inquisitive.

“What did you want them for?”

For a moment he simply glanced down again, studying the simple white texture of the petals. That question was always one he considered with trepidation— Gust wasn’t one to talk about the details of his personal life much with people. But maybe it was because of how he and the builder had come to know each other, or lately how he found himself subconsciously looking forward to running into her, or because he _knew_ somehow from her tone of voice, from the softness of her expression, that it went unspoken between them that he never had to answer a personal question that he didn’t really want to— but this time, somewhat unexpectedly, he actually felt the urge to tell her the truth.

Well, she _had_ gone through all the trouble of finding and growing them. An explanation was the least he could do, Gust rationalized.

“It’s for mother’s grave.” Though he spoke calmly, his voice carried against the soft breeze that passed between them. “Every Autumn I make sure to pick them for her, to give on April 1st.”

Annie’s expression seemed to turn pensive, and in that moment of renewed silence, he braced himself for the usual— the inquiries, the pity, the empty platitudes. The things he loathed that always came with the subject of his mother’s death.

To the architect’s surprise, though, she simply smiled at him. Then she walked past him, folding her arms in front of her to look at the painting. It was unfinished, but still Annie turned back to him with a sparkle in her eye. “This is a really nice. I can see why you choose this area— it’s serene.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” He took a step closer to study his own painting from over her shoulder. Somewhat wryly he said, “Though sometimes QQ comes along and snorts at me so loudly for food that he kind of ruins it all.”

The builder let out a startled laugh, as if his joke had surprised her. It was true that Gust wasn’t very much known for having a sense of humor. Somehow it made the reaction all the more genuine, though. After her chuckling subsided he noticed that she was shivering— she had crossed her arms over her chest earlier to absently rub at the exposed skin of her arms that came with being dressed in her adventuring clothes. No doubt she had just come home from ruin diving when she saw that the flowers were ready to be picked.

Before he even entirely realized what he was doing, he did a small check for dust— she must have cleaned up a bit first, as there was a satisfactory lack of dust and dirt on her shoulders at least— and then suddenly he was shrugging off his suit jacket. Careful not to tussle the flowers, he slid it off his arms and wrapped it around her shoulders. She craned her head towards him in surprise, but all he could focus on was the soft feeling of her hair as it brushed against his knuckles.

_Stop that,_ he told his body, which had clearly decided to act on its own tonight.

Gust cleared his throat. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you home.”

Only when she turned to him fully did he see the way his jacket dwarfed her frame— he had always been told that he was rather tall, but _goodness,_ considering the way it fit her despite the muscle she had undoubtedly built from her craft, Annie had to be even shorter than Ginger. Something about how the fabric hung loosely around her torso, the cuffs limply swaying in the breeze as she held the jacket closely around her, was distractingly attractive.

_Stop that,_ the voice in his head repeated angrily. Gust had never felt this way before, and again he did his best to simply ignore it.

“—don’t have to.” She was speaking to him, he realized with a slight start.

“It’s not good to walk around so late” he found himself saying, “when you live outside the city border— there’s still always monsters around.” He started packing up his paint supplies.

She chuckled. “There’s only llamas on the way to my house. And anyway, I have a sword, I deal with much worse on a daily basis.”

He cautiously stacked his supplies so his still-wet painting would rest on top. “It’s on the way to Father’s house, and the bus doesn’t come this late.”

Annie shot him a doubtful glance, somehow knowing that it was actually the opposite route he usually took to and from this spot.

The blond carefully tucked his easel under one arm and held the stack of supplies, canvas on top, in the other, before finally facing her, giving her an impassive sigh. “If you don’t want to walk with me you can simply say no.”

At that her eyes widened slightly, allowing even more stars to reflect in their depth. Gust could swear he caught a shade of pink against the builder’s cheeks. But no, she was his friend, and he was sure she only saw him that way. It must have been a trick of the light, the moon making the orange trees reflect off of her sun-kissed skin.

“N-no that’s…” She smiled at him. “I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”

They turned to walk, Annie holding the jacket closer against her in the midnight chill, and an easy, comfortable silence fell between them. For the second time that night, Gust felt a serene sense of calm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, guess which game I've been obsessed with. I can't play it when my computer is charging so I'm going to write these in between while I'm filled with the muse. I have a few things planned already for short vignettes but if you have any ideas / requests you'd like to see, let me know in the comments!


	2. Like Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireworks burst around them. But not in his mind, or in his heart, or whatever the usual cliche dictated that went with kissing someone you loved.  
> Literal fireworks.
> 
> Scene re-write (and mild spoilers for) the quest which I believe is just called "A date with Gust."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are starting off short because the two first ones are scene re-writes. But as soon as I start doing original stuff, and feel more comfortable with Gust's character, they'll get longer. Enjoy! Leave a comment / kudos if you liked it?

Gust tried not to tap his foot impatiently, as it was a rather impolite thing to do. Not that that usually really stopped him anyway. But this time, it was unjustified. Yes, ever since his rather abrupt invitation the day prior he had reminded Portia’s newest builder every time they saw each other not to be late, but even now he himself had been 45 minutes early. 

With a huff he crossed his hands over his chest to stop them from fidgeting at his side.

Logically he knew his impatience was misplaced. His girlfriend was a very busy person, who in her relatively short time at Portia had become essential to the town’s functioning. Just a few days ago when they had been laying in the grass, making shapes out of clouds in the sky, she had complained to him about how long it was taking her to complete all the street lamps that the town had requested of her. Honestly, it had been quite cute to hear the usually upbeat woman whine as she burrowed her nose into his chest. It also had given him a fond feeling as Gust had wrapped an arm securely around her waist, that she felt comfortable enough telling him this. They both knew she would probably do just about anything for this village, and no matter how much of a trouble it could be she loved helping Portia. But getting to see a side to her that no one else (except maybe her pet cat) got to see, seeing the other side to her otherwise cheery and impossibly optimistic attitude, made him feel oddly special. 

So obviously she couldn’t be quiet as early as he currently was. But still, his nerves rang through him, gripping at his stomach and refusing to release it. This was Gust’s first real relationship, and he wasn’t used to putting together romantic gestures like this anyone. Or honestly, any gestures at all. He was always the kind to do quiet things for those he loved— to take his sister on walks, to gather her materials for crafting, to pick flowers every autumn for the grave of his mother. To silently advocate his father’s proposed plans for the city, to subtly suggest to Albert which outfit he thought was better for a date. But big, explicit things like this? No wonder he currently felt queasy.

He glanced down at his watch. 26 minutes early still.

“Gust!” A cheery voice suddenly cut through the evening air, and for a moment his heart rate spiked in an excessively bothersome manner. But then he turned to face towards the hill path’s entrance, and a breeze ruffled through Annie’s hair. She came up to stand just in front of him, blinking happily. She had clearly made an effort to clean up, no dirt or grime from her daily labors and ruin diving apparent on her face or clothes. She bit at her lip, but smiled just the same. “I hope you weren’t waiting long? Pinky was being impossible and kept sitting on the clothes I was trying to put on.”

Gust momentarily found himself entranced by the way the light of the setting sun played off her freckles. “Not at all. I just got here,” he found himself saying. She grinned at him, sincere and bright the way she always was, and he found that every last one of his nerves had slipped away. 

“Why did you ask me up here?” She glanced at the orange sky around them. “You never did say.”

With an gleam in his eye that he couldn’t quite help in an otherwise impassive face, he grabbed Annie’s hand and brought her to sit next to him over to the rock on which earlier he had laid out a soft picnic blanket. “Telling you would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

He tried not to smile at the pout that crossed over her features.

She moved to sit more closely against him, warm leg pressing against his, and he wrapped an arm around the small of her back. She rested her head against his shoulder, looking out at the view over the town. His heartbeat was heavy but steady as he blinked away from the view to look down at her face, so close to his. From this distance he could see the soft slope of her nose, and her long, feathery lashes. 

“It’s a beautiful view,” she said softly.

“Yes, it is.” 

At his tone, she glanced up to see he was still looking at her, and an endearing blush spread over her cheeks. She gave a slight shove of her shoulder against his side and he couldn’t help chuckling.

It was so strange. When Gust had first told those closest to him— namely Albert and Ginger, although at separate times— of his new relationship with the builder, they had both said almost the exact same thing, to the point of it being uncanny: that they had seen it coming, and that they had never seen him so happy.

He was starting to recognize that in himself.

“Look,” she said, breaking him softly out of his thoughts. She was pointing at the now dark sky. “It’s the Ursa Major.” She grabbed lightly at his wrist and used his hand to point up and to the right at another. “And that’s the Minor. Do you know the story of them?”

He glanced down at her, in silent encouragement for her to continue.

Annie’s eyes slid away from him, back at the stars, suddenly going distant. A fond smile ghosted over her lips. Her voice was calm and reflective, surprisingly soothing in its tale. “I don’t have many memories of my father. He passed when I was very young. But one I do remember is him reading to me from a book of myths from the Old World. In a certain culture, it was believed that there were many gods. The most powerful of them all was apparently quite lustful. He fell in love with a beautiful hunter, and together they had a child. This enraged the god’s wife, who herself was a powerful goddess of marriage. In her anger she turned the hunter into a bear, and for many years the son grew up without her. 

“One day the son was hunting in the forest for his adopted family, and came across a large bear. The mother, who was ecstatic to see her son after so long, ran up to him, forgetting for a moment the curse she had. The son, not recognizing her in this form, was glad to see a large creature that would feed his family for quite a while. They clashed, and he killed her.

“In her dying breath she turned back into her human form, and the son instantly recognized her. He cried and mourned for so long and so loudly that even the gods couldn’t ignore him. The original god, his father, had felt so guilty, and worried about what would happen to the son, that he turned them both into stars and placed them in the heavens so that they could always be together.” She smiled soflty, turning to meet Gust’s eyes again. “And that’s why they’re always seen next to each other. According to that book, anyway.”

A moment of silence passed over them, and Gust turned his eyes back to the constellations. It was a surprisingly entrancing story, for a pair of constellations he had never spared much thought to. Next to him, Annie nuzzled a bit further onto his shoulder. Gust couldn’t help the wry tone that took over his voice, “What a dreadfully tragic story.” The slight smile on his lips gave him away.

The builder giggled, sweet and affectionate in a way that made his heart feel light. She nudged her shoulder against his side again. He turned to look at her, and she was smiling at him with all the brightness of a star in her own right. He found his lips drawn to hers with a magnetic force, until he could feel the impossible softness of her lips against his. Moving slowly against his mouth, Annie brought her free hand up to cup his neck, and it was almost searingly warm against the evening chill. He brought his own free hand to tangle in her hair, savoring the moment of her against him. 

Fireworks burst around them.

But not in his mind, or in his heart, or whatever the usual cliche dictated that went with kissing someone you loved. 

_ Literal fireworks. _

Annie pulled away in shock, staring at the night sky around them, and with a bit of a start Gust remembered he had actually planned this. When he came back to himself he couldn’t help grinning, just slightly, at the adorably gobsmacked look on her face. She turned to him, wide-eyed, then back to the stars. She smiled again, broadly, and he felt an odd satisfaction knowing that smile was for him.

Gust had never been an overly-openly affectionate person. In truth, he had been scolded quite a few times (by Albert) for being too cold or blunt towards people, especially women that his well-meaning but at times incredibly inconvenient friend had tried to set him up with. Even with his family, he preferred subtle things over blatant affection.

But now, as Annie stood up to walk closer to the edge of the hill, he found his arms shooting out, grabbing at her waist and pulling her against his lap. For the second time in the same amount of minutes, the builder blinked at him, wide-eyed. Then she started to laugh— loudly. It shook her shoulders, crinkled lines around her eyes, and it was oddly infectious. Before he even realized it chuckles were bubbling out of his own chest. His hands felt secure and comfortable against her shoulder and waist, and the way she looked at him, pure joy shining through her eyes, Gust felt the need to look away. He still had to get used to seeing someone so openly and truly happy to be around him. 

Annie reached up and pressed a kiss against his jaw, and another at his chin, and then lightly pecked at his lips. She was about to pull away, but Gust moved the hand at her shoulder to rest against her cheek, holding her close and pressing his lips warmly against hers. She wrapped both arms eagerly around his shoulders, holding him so his chest was pressed flush against hers, and they enjoyed the fireworks in the best way— as lights of colors flashing behind their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the Major & Minor Ursa is the version I always read when I was young!


	3. Unlikely Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The movements were surprisingly graceful, and perfectly timed, as synchronous and fluid as a practiced dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit self-indulgent... uh... enjoy. Also, sorry they've all been short so far-- I haven't had the stamina yet to write my long ideas down. Hopefully that'll change soon!

It was a normal, mundane day in the small town of Portia. Birds chirped happily from the trees, shop owners chatted with each other from across the street, the sun shined happily down upon them, carried by a gentle breeze… and Gust was being dragged somewhere by Albert, whose ‘best friend’ status was currently being reconsidered. Nevertheless, the man’s grip was surprisingly strong around Gust’s wrist— sometimes he forgot that Albert dealing with the construction side of the business went beyond just the logistics of their company.

“Come on, mate, you’re not going to want to miss this!”

He couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the back of Albert’s head. “Last time you said that I distinctly remember wishing that I  _ had, _ indeed, missed that.”

Despite his best efforts, he had been dragged to their final destination, where a small crowd was already gathered. The breeze was soft on the grassy plains just outside the gates closest to Portia’s Central Plaza, but the anticipation was thick in the air, so much so that it was almost tangible. Albert quickly rushed them to join the group of people, and finally dropped Gust’s arm as he started talking with everyone. 

At the very least, the blond found it rather easy to drone out the buzz of noise.

Apparently, almost three times a week since as long as Portia’s newest builder had moved to town, she had challenged different members of the local Civil Corps branch to a sparring match. Of course, it started off as a no-contest challenge that no one really took interest in. But apparently she had spent the last month too busy dealing with the many sudden mini-crisis of the town, and hadn’t dueled anyone at all. There had been rumors that since that time Annie had grown quite a lot stronger, and was ready for her final fight. In reality, of course, they all knew she wasn’t going to stop the practices— but something about the lack of it recently had made the event all the more desirable. Apparently.

“Is she here yet?” A heavily-accented voice asked from behind the crowd, as Arlo came walking out of town, hands in his pockets. He stepped up to his two fellow Corpsmen at the center.

“Not yet!” Sam chirped out.

Honestly, how boorish.

Gust could hardly stand the Martial Arts Tournament. He usually only went in support of his father’s events as a mayor, and to accompany his sister, who insisted on at least making it out to the large town gatherings to stay social. But at least with the tournament there was a sense of novelty, of honing and depicting great skill and self-discipline. This gathering simply felt pointless. If the protectors of the town wanted to practice their skill that was just fine, Gust thought, but why make it into some grand spectacle?

And why again was he dragged to this?

He glanced over at Albert. Upon entering the office this morning his friend had given him an infuriatingly  _ knowing _ look, as if insinuating that somehow any grand thing surrounding Annie was Gust’s business.

Which wasn’t true in the slightest.

Yes, she had made it a point to stop by the office almost every day to have a talk. Yes, more than once she had brought an umbrella, or his favorite food after he mentioned how much he had been craving it lately. Yes, he had become surprisingly more talkative with the builder since she had first arrived. That didn’t mean anything— she did almost the same things for Albert, and he was sure for the rest of the town as well. It was a normal thing to want to make friends with the residents of a new town.

Friends.

How strange.

Cutting off his thoughts was an elbow to his side, and he looked up to see Albert’s excited gaze. He followed the line of sight and saw Annie on the back of her horse, galloping across the space between the circle of villagers and her workshop. Her hair caught and shone in the sunlight in an almost breathtaking manner, sweeping behind her in waves against the wind. Her most noticeable feature, though, was the bright grin that was spread across her lips, which accentuated the utter confidence with which she held herself.

Gust’s hand twitched, and he felt a sudden and absurd urge to grab his sketchbook.

“Sorry I’m late!” She called as she came towards them. When she was finally close enough she jumped off the horse before it barely even got the chance to come to a full stop. She walked the rest of the distance to the crowd, and handed the horse’s reins to Emily with an appreciative smile. “I had to finish those last few copper pipes or I’d never get this commission done on time.”

“It’s no problem,” Arlo greeted with a calm smile. “I just hope you’ve come prepared.”

To Gust’s surprise she shot a grin back at the man, stepping up to him. The crowd parted around them, forming a tighter circle with a very defined amount of space for the two to spar in. The blond had never seen her act this way— though he guessed he had never really seen her fight, not in the hazardous ruins or in any sparring. Though she never hid the fierceness of her personality or her infinite well of stubbornness, he somehow hadn’t expected her to currently seem so much… in her element. It was strange to think that this girl getting ready to fight was the same one who offered gentle smiles at his sister as she brought her crafting materials, or who almost cried from the sweetness of seeing QQ asleep in a bed of flowers.

As the two brawlers started doing some warm-up stretches, happily chatting with those around them in the meantime, Gust couldn’t help the amusement at the sight— though Annie had turned out to be adept at fighting in the ruins, the Corps leader still towered over her, and made for a rather interesting contrast. 

“Here it goes,” Albert said, shooting him another suggestive glance.

He really had to stop doing that.

In all honesty Gust still found himself wishing he could go to the office and work on his latest project. Or go home and have a nice tea with his sister. Or take QQ for a walk into the haunted cave— virtually anything seemed more desirable than this. It wasn’t his kind of event, and there was no reason to stare at the builder in her lightweight, form-fitting workout clothes, or at the way the sun caught against the sweat that trailed down her throat, dripping to the slope of her collarbone. 

No reason at all.

“Ready… and…” Remington’s deep, calm voice rang through the crowd. Arlo and Annie squared their shoulders, spread their feet, and straightened their posture. 

“START!” Sam called.

There was a flash of movement. Almost immediately he saw a blur, and Annie was rolling past Arlo, ducking under one of his raised arms. She stopped just behind him, using the momentum of the sudden halt to spin on a crouch in an attempt to sweep out Arlo’s feet. The man was already moving, though, using his longer limbs to quickly step out of her range of motion. Still, from her crouching motion Annie launched up at him, throwing a fist which he blocked and redirected with his forearm. He tried to throw a kick at her side but she rolled again, using her shorter stature to move spryly around and under him.

Gust suddenly found all of his attention devoted to the two of them. As the sun bore down on them sweat plastered hair on both their faces, and made their breaths come up panting quicker. But the movements were surprisingly graceful, and perfectly timed, as synchronous and fluid as a practiced dance. 

It actually was a true show of skill— each party was practiced and strong, but it was interesting to see them utilizing their own sizes and skills to different body types. Arlo usually went for long-ranged kicks or heavy blocks, while Annie was dodging left and right, aiming more to wear him down with continual attacks. 

She was focused, a heavy set to her brow as she moved, chest panting in the effort, and she was somehow brawny and poised at the same time— each move was calculated in the breath of a second, before easily flowing into the next. In the short, practical fabric of her gear he could also more clearly see the muscle that was set under her skin from all her hard work, sweat and sunlight contouring out the tense set of her limbs. 

Gust came back to himself with a start when the crowd let out a loud set of cheers in unison. Sam and Remington called out the last ten seconds of the duel out loud, and everyone joined them, counting off with bated breath, and though he stayed silent Gust found that he couldn’t quite breathe either.

In the last moment Arlo shoved back Annie’s attempt at a punch, catching her off guard, and as she peddled backwards he threw a heavy kick against her shoulder. She went stumbling, landing with a rather heavy  _ thump _ on the ground, and the entire crowd gasped, so it was only the Corpsmen’s voices calling “and… ONE! Time’s up!” 

Gust felt his heartbeat catch in his chest in panic, and without even thinking felt his feet moving to push forward in the crowd. But before he had even made it past Albert’s shoulder, he heard a hearty laugh from the circle. His vision refocused, and he saw Annie’s bright smile accompanying her bubbling laugh. 

“That was a great job, kid.” Arlo was saying as he bent over, offering her a hand. She took it, jumping easily to her feet, and then grinned up at him again. “You really improved.”

“No kidding!” Sam cheered as she ran up with Remington to join them at the center. “You really gave Arlo a run for his money!”

“We might have to start calling you  _ Captain _ soon,” her companion joked.

Annie laughed again as Arlo said, with exasperation creeping into his otherwise friendly tone, “Now, now.”

The rest of the crown soon surged forward, and Gust felt himself carried with the tied. It seemed that almost everyone took turns offering congratulations to each of the contestants, as well as bright praise here and there. Without fully realizing what was happening the line had thinned down, until it was just Albert in front of him, who was chatting excitedly. 

“—was really something!” he was saying, clapping a friendly hand on Annie’s shoulder. 

He moved to say something to Arlo, but Gust wasn’t really listening. In front of him, suddenly, for the first time today stood Annie, with her full attention on him. Her bright eyes were almost blinding in the harsh sun, and he could see that she was still catching her breath. Her collar bone rose and fell against the fabric of her clothes, and it took a ridiculous amount of effort for him to stay completely still, his gaze trained on her flushed face.

He realized with a bit of a start that she was speaking.

“Gust? Earth to architect?”

He blinked down at her, and after lightly clearing his throat spoke in an otherwise aloof voice. “I’m not one to enjoy fights, of any kind.” A pause fell heavily between them as he forced himself to finish his train of thought. “But, even I have to admit you weren’t entirely unimpressive there for a moment.”

To his surprise, again, she laughed. The sound was melodic, and instead of taking offense to his phrasing the builder simply smiled cheerfully at him— maybe she was becoming too used to his way of speaking. Maybe she was getting a peak behind his aloof exterior. 

To his indignation, his traitorous mind seemed to find the idea terrifying and thrilling all at the same time. 

“Honestly, it was great practice, I really have to start doing this again.”

Someone in the crowd stumbled back, bumping the exhausted Annie and sending her tumbling forward. Gust immediately shot his arms out to catch her, and for a moment the crowd around them faded away. It was just them two, eyes locked, and her freckles standing out as clear as constellations on the tan shade of her skin. 

“Annie?” Someone called out from the thickness of the crowd, and quickly the two jumped apart. 

A few of the younger villagers made their way over. Most others went back about their daily lives, enjoying the warm weather in their stroll back to the town.

“We were thinking of grabbing lunch to celebrate,” Alice smiled timidly.

“Come with us, kid!” Sam was already wrapping an arm around the builder’s shoulders, and they started making their way back to the village as well.

Gust stood for a moment, hands comfortably in his pocket as he let the breeze pass through his hair. He watched the way Annie’s shoulders bounced up and down in laughter. He felt a hand on his own shoulder and looked over to Albert next to him.

“Come on, what are you doing standing around? We have to join them.”

With a put-upon sigh Gust followed his dark-haired friend, who grinned at the lack of argument and quickly jogged to catch up with the group. Gust stayed at his own pace, knowing he’d eventually catch up when they got to Django’s. Still in the thick of her crowd of friends, though, he could see Annie glance over her shoulder, as if checking if he was still here. He found himself shooting her a small smile, and his heart skipped rather problematically at the way her expression brightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the way you can basically yell "FIGHT ME" at someone in this game to gain their affection. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Comments and Kudos are appreciated. Let me know if you guys prefer small chapter summaries, or prefer just to be surprised?


	4. Neither Snow nor Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a small / easy fluff idea that just hit me out of nowhere but it ended up getting just a touch steamy. Lime, I believe, if the young kids still use those terms?

The fireplace was set to a low kindle, enough to provide needed warmth during the night but not so much to burn down the house in the meantime. All of the various pets of the household were asleep in their respective places, and snoring at various volumes. All lamps except the one in the bedroom were turned off, no machine inside the house was running, and Gust had just finished slipping into his simple dark, black-blue cotton pajama bottoms. He grabbed the book he had been reading off his desk and slid it back onto the bookshelf. 

Everything he could think of for his nightly routine was checked off… but he still felt like something was missing. With hands resting on his hips, he turned to face the double bed. 

Then, of course, it hit him: he was missing the most important part of his nightly routine (the only truly important part, if he was really honest with himself). 

With an endeared but exasperated sigh, he slipped into some shoes and grabbed a warm coat from the rack on his way to the front door. The winter wind hit him with a blast of frost the second he opened it, only making the comforting warmth of the inside of the house all the more desirable. With a huff, cheeks reddening against the bite of the snow, he was determined to get his workaholic wife inside, away from the cold as quickly as possible, take her to bed, and fall asleep with his head tangled in her hair.

That sounded just about right to him.

Wrapping his coat more tightly around himself, Gust trudged through the layer of snow that covered their yard. Finally rounding the corner of the house, through the layer of falling snow he could see Annie, working diligently at the grinder. For a moment he found himself just watching her, as she hurried over to her chests, grabbed out a ridiculous amount of materials, and went over to her worktable. She was so focused that she didn’t seem to notice as he made his way through the snow, stopping just behind her. Maybe it was not having seen her at all day, or in fact, much at all this past week, but Gust found himself feeling rather affectionate.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on top of her head, delighted in the little squeak she made.

Damn, being a happily married man was turning him  _ clingy. _

He could feel her writhing against his arms, no doubt trying to get back to work on whatever she was making, but his arms were wrapped too securely around her for her to be able to move much more than her wrist. After a few more moments she let out a defeated sigh, and dropped her tools on the table. With her shoulders sagged he had to hunch over to keep his chin on top of hers. Snow fell, in slow, heavy blotches around them, and he could feel his hair getting wetter against his forehead. 

A few more moments passed until the builder finally cut the silence. “You’re not going to release me, are you?”

He let out a soft hum, as if in thought. “No, I don’t think I am.”

She wiggled to pivot within his embrace, and he loosened it  _ just _ enough so that she could press her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his back. 

“Not even if I tell you that I have to get six different commissions done by next week?” Her voice was muffled against the fabric of his coat, and he tried not to shiver at the feeling of her breath against his neck— a hot, stark contrast against the frigid cold around them.

“Mm… No, sorry.”

_ “Gust.”  _ He simply tightened his embrace.  _ “Gust!”  _ Her indignant voice was made moot by the giggles he felt shaking shoulders.

_ “Darling,”  _ he said, for a moment mimicking her tone. “You’ve been working on those commissions non-stop all week, even though the weather has been horrible.” She grumbled something against his chest. “You’re going to get sick if you don’t let yourself sleep enough, and if you keep working out here in the cold and wet.” Even in her warmer set of clothes she was shivering softly in his embrace. 

She pulled back to look him in the eye. He could see the dark shade that the low light of night gave to her irises, and the bright, attractively rosy pink of her skin, splotched against her cheeks and nose. He could also see little white specks of snow dotted around her hair, mirroring the freckles on her face. Actually, the snow was falling all around them, catching on the fabric around her shoulders, and in the feathering of her eyelashes. Heat radiated off of her, tangible in their proximity, and Gust found himself leaning forward.

He watched as her eyes fluttered closed, and she met him half-way, pressing her lips to his. They were surprisingly cold— no doubt from having been out here much longer than he, but they moved with their usual savoring slowness. She slipped her arms out from their embrace before wrapping them around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. A slight rumble came out of his throat, and he tightened his arms around her waist. 

Annie’s chest was pressed flush against his, and he could feel each panting breath move against his own. She nipped lightly at his lower lip, setting the warm kindle of his desire into a blaze, and suddenly, without being fully in control of himself, he found that he was picking her up. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, and the gasp she let out against him simply added to the lust that was making him semi-delirious. He walked backward until she was seated against her worktable, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other balancing them against the bench, pressing her into it. 

She dragged her fingers down the nape of his neck, and tugged gently at the hair there, eliciting another soft, rumbling noise from Gust. His lips moved feverishly against hers, fingers digging into the fabric at the small of her back. The arm that was bracing against the table dropped to rest on his elbow, so that he was pushing her further back, her body arching up against his. Soft, breathy noises were escaping her lips, filling the breath between their kisses, and they threatened to quite honestly drive Gust mad with desire. 

“Gust,” she breathed against him, in the moments their lips parted before meeting again. “Gust.”

He could feel his pulse drumming against his ears as all of his blood seemed to rush tightly downwards.

_ “Gust,”  _ she said again.

“Yes?” He found himself mumbling. All he could focus on was the plushness of her body against his, the way her thighs tightened around his waist when he trailed his tongue around her lip, the searing warmth of her hands against his neck. 

She pulled back just slightly, but barely aware of himself his lips chased after hers. Annie giggled, turning her face so that he placed a warm kiss against her bright red cheek. A moment later her horse whinnied loudly, kicking some snow and spraying it all against his pajama bottoms. He dropped his head with a dejected shy, setting it on her shoulder, and he could feel more than hear her laugh again. 

“Now you’re the one shivering,” she said. 

Able to actually focus on something other than the maddening woman in front of him, Gust could feel that he was indeed trembling all over, though he wasn’t sure how much of that was from the cold, and how much was from the adrenaline of desire.

They spent a bit longer like that, still in that same, embracing position, the respite allowing them to catch their breaths. Then, finally he lifted his head from her shoulder, and he could see that her eyes were drooping, blinking half-blearily at him. 

A soft breath of a chuckle left him, as he pulled back enough to stand up straight. She tried to sit up too, but her shoulders still sagged from exhaustion.

“Let’s get going,” he whispered, placing a small, reverent kiss against her forehead.

Annie nodded. “Mhm,” she mumbled. He took a step back, but other than a small pout from the removal of his body heat she didn’t move at all.

“Annie,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go inside.”

She didn’t move a muscle, but her eyes were fully closed. “I am. Look. I’m walking.”

With his second lightly exasperated sigh of the night Gust moved forward, curling one arm under the crook of her legs and the other around the small of her back. He hefted her upwards, and her limbs moved limply in the motion. She pressed her nose lazily against his neck, and he carried her back towards the house, and the warmth of their bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm used to writing things that are way toooo long, so writing these short little 3 page ish snippets make me kind of nervous? I hope you guys are enjoying them. Thank you for reading, and for those who have continued to leave kudos and comments! Thank you! I'm going to stop putting chapter summaries, since my way of summaries is usually just quoting the actual writing. Let me know if you'd prefer them back?


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